Because you can't train all the time
by Vicky-V
Summary: The resting ground for all my RaditzxZarbon oneshot ficlets, which at the moment are anything with a word count under 500. All ratings and warnings are given. All have a shounenai content.
1. Stuck on Loathing

Why just RaditzxZarbon ficlets? Because that's the pairing I've chosen to write for the otp100 challenge at Live Journal. Please visit my profile for more information.

Rating: PG

Warning: Character death (or already dead as the case actually is)

**Stuck on Loathing**

"I wish you'd go and die! Then I'd be able to get you out of my head and go back to what I was."

--

Zarbon had smashed anything that happened to show his reflection lying in his quarters. The tiny, rapidly decreasing bit of rational sense left within him mused on how lucky it was there were no windows, considering the less-than desirable atmosphere outside. But it ultimately went ignored.

His fists sliced open as he pounded any scrap of glass into the tiniest of fragments, smeared them with small splashes of blue. Zarbon was also aware of his hair coming loose and falling down into his face. But it didn't matter. He wouldn't have to look at it.

The space around him spun and shrank rapidly as he paced the floor, spreading shards of glass around as he did so. Blood seeped through the sliced skin on his fists and onto the clothing covering his thighs. The sharp crunching under his feet meant there wasn't much else to take his rage out on. Nothing that would cause the sharp stings to flash through every nerve like the glass did. All he could really do was dig his nails as hard as he could into his palms, submerging them in fresh blood and torn skin.

It didn't calm him down. Just made him angrier. But he didn't know what else to do.

When he had snapped at the stupid Saiyan to go and die, he hadn't expected it to be taken literally.

And, to make matters worse, Zarbon was _still_ thinking about it.

_**END**_


	2. In Sickness

Rating: PG

**In Sickness**

Considering the strength and physical health of Frieza's army as a whole, illness was something that was very rarely heard of. When it did strike, it was something to be concerned about.

Saiyans in particular were often ones to ignore medical advice. Only if their limbs were shattered and their lungs half-collapsed would they reluctantly agree to be lifted into the regeneration tanks.

Perhaps such stubborn pride was why Raditz was stretched out on one of the metallic, sterilised tables of the medical wing. A mask over his mouth and nose pumped clean air through his lungs. Wires piercing his body kept a check on his breathing and heart rate. And an irritated Zarbon stood beside him.

He was under orders to bring some medical data to Frieza, something that he wasn't particularly happy about doing. He was a general, dammit, not a messenger boy. But he valued having a neck between his head and his shoulders a little too much to voice any objection. So he waited, stood beside the Saiyan, almost, but not quite, leaning against the table as the doctor hastily went about isolating the data gathered so far in order to give a good average reading that would please Frieza.

As he waited, there was suddenly the feeling of a very faint pressure around his wrist. Glancing down, Zarbon saw the Saiyan's tail wrapping itself loosely around his arm.

He looked away, back at the piece of wall that his attention had been on before. Zarbon curled his fingers up, closing them around Raditz's tail and began to scratch lightly at the thick fur.

The doctor glanced over, having built up a habit of keeping a continuous check on his patients long ago. He saw Raditz's tail wrapped around Zarbon's wrist. He also saw Zarbon's fingers slowly moving, stroking it.

He quickly decided that it was none of his business.

_**END**_


	3. Muffler

Rating: PG

**Muffler**

He was doing it to annoy him. The trouble was that it worked. What Zarbon had yet to figure out was just how such a loud noise could come from a rather small person.

But, somehow, Jeice managed it. After going to quite a few of the many bars that were dotted around and pouring unimaginable amounts of alcohol down his throat, he would often make a point of making most of his noise outside Zarbon's quarters. In a way, Zarbon supposed that he was partly to blame for that. He had made it clear that it highly annoyed him, which only encouraged Jeice to do it more often.

And so it would go on. Another night. More noise.

"That's it!" Zarbon grumbled to no one in particular as he sat up. "If he's going to continue insisting on interrupting my beauty sleep, I'm killing him."

"Oi," Raditz blindly reached out to grip Zarbon's arm and pull him back down. "Don't move when someone's trying to sleep on you."

To prove his point, the Saiyan shifted his weight to half-cover Zarbon. As quite a considerable amount of Raditz's hair fell over him, Zarbon began to think once again about how he would have to find some way to tie it back while he was trying to sleep. Then he found himself reconsidering.

Annoying as it was to roll over and suddenly find himself with a mouthful of hair, Raditz's impressive mane was also very thick. He pulled Raditz close to him and buried himself as much as he could into his hair.

It didn't completely block the noise. But it was enough to allow him to get the beauty sleep he wanted.

_**END**_


	4. Splatters

Rating: PG

Warning: Blood

**Splatters**

It suits him. And, the thing is, Raditz knows it shouldn't.

Or, if he were to be more accurate, Zarbon doesn't want it to suit him.

But, as far as Raditz is concerned, Zarbon looks pretty damn good with the blood of another splattered over his face and tangled in his hair. Especially with such a fierce scowl on his face. All he needs is a tail swishing around the backs of his knees and Raditz thinks Zarbon would make a good Saiyan.

"You can either step aside, Saiyan, or I can go through you." Zarbon says slowly. His upper lip curls as he does. "And, quite frankly, you're lucky to be getting the choice."

Raditz lingers for half a second longer before he steps aside in one smooth, deliberate movement. While doing so he doesn't break the eye contact he holds. Perhaps he would have done more; stayed between Zarbon and getting clean a moment longer or widened his smirk. But Raditz knew when he may be at risk of having the pesky weight that was his head removed from his neck.

As Zarbon stalks past, Raditz reaches out to take his chin. It only takes a second for him to swipe his tongue over Zarbon's lower lip and remove the streak of red, drying blood upon it. Then he lets go and, in an odd moment of caution and foresight, takes another step back. Zarbon's piercing eyes glare at him for a moment. Then the sound of steadily fading footsteps reaches Raditz's ears.

When Raditz realises that he hasn't obtained any physical injury, he decides this is something he'll have to pursue.

_**END**_


	5. Suffuse

**Pairing:** RaditzxZarbon

**Word Count:** 405

**Notes:** -

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing in connection with Dragonball Z, nor do I make any money writing this fanfiction.

--

**Suffuse**

Zarbon's scent keeps changing and Raditz only notices it when he's very close. The smells are spread over Zarbon's neck and in his hair; scents which make his nostrils quiver and his stomach tighten. They're oddly intoxicating and the reactions they provoke in Raditz's body make them worth perusing. Never once has Raditz been able to name the smell shooting up his nose to scratch at the back of his throat because he just doesn't care and he's very almost embarrassed that a soldier of such high skill feels the need to do such stupid feminine things.

_Almost_. This is Zarbon, after all, and therefore an exception.

And so Raditz gets pissed about how, although he can never name what the scents are, he's noticing how Zarbon's neck smells different to his hair. Recently he's also been recognising how the two different smells compliment each other. It's almost enough to make him stop entirely.

Again, almost. The only reason Raditz notices the scent of Zarbon's hair is because it keeps falling over his shoulder. And Zarbon gets oddly irritated should Raditz reach out to bat it away. So many times Raditz would like to slip in comments which generally refer to time of the month, except at that point his survival instincts kick in very strongly.

Those thoughts, amusing as they are, don't stay for very long. His mind starts to feel hazed and heavy and he knows it's the result of whatever Zarbon has on his neck. It's doing _something_, making his tail sway behind him and a growl rumble in his throat. His eyes are half closed and the only thing he's really aware of keeping him attached to reality is the wall he presses his palms against. Between his arms, his back pressed against the wall, is Zarbon and Raditz just _knows_ that cocky smirk is on his face. But Raditz can't properly tell because he's got his face pushed against his neck. Zarbon keeps shifting, moving sideways every so slightly, just enough to keep Raditz alert and go after him. It's almost like a game, which Raditz appears to be winning but, in the back of his hazy mind, he gets the feeling Zarbon is.

He gets the feeling, again itching in the back of his mind, that he should care about that. But he really doesn't as much as he should when he feels Zarbon's leg slide over his hip.

_**END**_


	6. One Pace Forward, Ten Leaps Back

Rating: PG

Summary: Zarbon remains a mystery and a damn annoying one.

Disclaimer: I own nothing in connection with Dragonball Z, nor do I make any money writing this fanfiction.

xxx

**One Pace Forward, Ten Leaps Back**

When Raditz thinks he's learned something about Zarbon, he comes to realise there are many more things he doesn't know. That's how it is in Frieza's army. There's always somebody watching your back, waiting to strike you down.

Most of Zarbon's reputation revolves around his vanity. But there was that time when he returned covered with blood, (his? Nobody knew), but not batting an eyelid. When he's angry, enraged, there's something different about him. Something monstrous he's only just able control.

With anybody else Raditz doesn't give a damn, but with Zarbon it's confusing. Perhaps that's why it's so interesting.

_**END**_


End file.
